


Of Soup And Trolls

by BlueTigerTime



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pesterlog, Sickfic, current me: colors are the worst save me, eqs only mentioned tho, more pesterlog formatting for colors sakes!!!!, past me: color coding is so cute im gonna do it, shrugs, thats what this is, u kno it the generic sick comfort fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4596603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTigerTime/pseuds/BlueTigerTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nepeta gets sick, it's up to Equius to take forever at the store and to Karkat to save Nepeta from the hell that is lying on a couch surrounded by tissues and zero cuddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Soup And Trolls

**Author's Note:**

> guess who's almost done posting secret santa fics? it's me. the prompt was karnep and meowrails. i went for it.

It’s been five and a half days.

Five and a half days of being in bed.

Five and a half days of staring at the ceiling covered in too many blankets and not enough blankets at the same time.

Five and a half days of being coddled by your overprotective moirail _who needs to give you a break because seriously you love him with every pale fiber of your heart but this is starting to get ridiculous._

Five and a half days of him staying over at your hive and sleeping on the couch because he’s too scared to leave you alone and that makes something in your chest twist and warm up and you’re not sure what it is, you’re not sure you want to know what it is.

Five and a half days of constant coughing that ends up leaving a ticklish feeling in your throat, like you swallowed a feather but it got stuck on the way down.

Five and a half days of not being able to breathe through your nose, and your stomach feeling like you got punched repeatedly and then stabbed for good measure by someone who platonically hates you.

All in all, these last five and a half days have not exactly been fun.

Right at this moment, however, you’re lying on the couch, head propped up on a few towels generously donated by your moirail, feet kicked up, though you’re not tall enough to reach the other armrest. You’re staring at the ceiling, and the worst part about all of this is you can’t even relax properly. All you can focus on is the awful sound of your breathing, stuffy and thick. You can’t even close your eyes to try and doze off because just as you’re about to drift off, your chest explodes or _something_ inside it does and you’re awake and on your side, gagging and retching, you stomach doing backflips, your mouth open as you gasp for your breath, and there comes Equius running in to make sure you aren’t dying. God this sucks. But here you are, tired of being sick but unable to do anything, waiting for Zahhak to get back from a grocery run.

In a fit of frustration, you pull out your tablet and swipe open Trollian, scanning those who are online. Oh look, _he’s_ on.

arsenicCatnip [AC] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

AC: :33 < *ac wanders into karkats hive*

There is a moment of silence, long enough for you to stare at your tablet and think “This was a really bad idea” and curse your constant need to bother your flushcrush and what is wrong with you what if he’s busy, obviously he’s busy with more important people or he would have answered by now-

CG: OH, IT’S YOU.  
AC: :33 < *ac swishes her tail and sits back on her haunches*  
CG: HEY. HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?   
CG: I HEARD FROM YOUR HEMOPHOBIC PISS BANDIT OF A MOIRAIL THAT YOU HAD BEEN SICK.  
CG: ARE SICK.  
CG: FUCK I DON’T KNOW, ARE YOU SICK?  
AC: :33 < *ac nods and aj;klsgaw;twgar[ ai[o

You take a moment to have a coughing attack and curse everything and everyone using language that would earn you a very stern look from your moirail. After a little bit of wheezing and several deep breaths, you open your eyes (that are tearing up, goddamn everything) and look back down to your Trollian. What you see makes you smile through the pain in your chest.

CG: ARE YOU OKAY ARE YOU DYING?  
CG: JESUS FUCK NEPETA DON’T DO THAT ARE YOU OKAY?  
CG: FUCK SHIT ARE YOU OKAY?  
CG: DON’T LEAVE ME FUCKING HANGING ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION!  
CG: ALRIGHT THAT’S IT I’M COMING OVER.

Until you see the last line, that is. In a sudden panic you stand up, and woops there goes your tablet and all the blankets and goddamn it. Frantically you shove all the tissues and trash into a trash bag and toss it out back, running around like an idiot in your pajamas, hat hanging clumsily on one horn. You’re about done cleaning up, looking around checking everything, when the doorbell rings.

The squeal that comes out of your mouth is not fitting for the mighty huntress you are, and in a panic you fling yourself onto the couch, burrowing under towels and pillows and skins. The knock comes again, stronger and louder, and you squeak out a “come in, the door’s open!”

You hear the door open and you curse everything, but especially your luck. You hear footsteps, and you squeak again when you realize they’re not the heavy, controlled footsteps of your moirail _GODDAMN IT._

“UM, NEPETA? YOU HERE?” His voice rings out, strong but quieter than you’d have expected, and you weigh the pros and the cons quickly of reacting, of speaking. Oh fuck you he’s leaving goddamn it there’s the door closing fuck fuck shit-

You sigh and throw off a blanket, hair sticking up in random directions and hat somewhere on the floor, sick and completely done with everything. You adjust your position on the couch and reach for your discarded tablet, flicking it open and staring at Trollian. Just as you’ve opened up a message to Equius berating him for _taking his damn time seriously what the fuck is he doing_ there’s a ding noise and it’s ridiculously stupid how slowly you turn your head to watch in horror as your flushcrush steps out of the kitchen holding a bowl of soup.

Goddamn everything. The universe really _is_ out to get you.

You stare, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, and he stares back, and there’s a moment of silence where everyone in the room regrets everything they’ve ever done and all decisions that led up to this point. After a moment, he clears his throat awkwardly. “UM, SO YOU WEREN’T ANSWERING TROLLIAN, AND I GOT WORRIED, SO I CAME OVER, BUT I DIDN’T SEE ANYONE, BUT YOU SAID YOU WERE HERE, SO I JUST, I SORTA, UM… ”

He holds out the steaming soup out towards you, and looks away as an _absolutely fucking adorable_ blush appears on his cheek and why does he have to be _so damn cute_. You smile as best you can considering the state you’re in and you nod. He smiles back, nervous and awkward, and walks over to you, where he sits next to you and passes the soup over to you.

After a moment of hesitation you take the spoon he offers you and start to eat, and you cannot stop the moan that leaves your mouth as the first bite enters your mouth because holy crap this troll can _cook oh my god._

Of course he laughs, so you laugh, and you turn bright olive, bright enough to rival his candy red blush. You swish your tail in embarrassment and continue eating, and in your state of illness you don’t even notice when he drapes another blanket around your shoulders. You say nothing when he leaves his arm around your shoulders, and neither does he. When you finally do finish, he takes the bowl from you without a word and leaves you to your thoughts for a few moments. He leaves to dump it in the dirty dishes, and when he returns, you meow at him, at a loss for what else to say. Your eyes light up when he chuckles and sits next to you.

Of course, this is the exact moment your chest decides it’s not done with you and contracts horridly. In response, you burst out coughing and for a few seconds you can’t breathe at all as you seize up. You’re not sure you heard right but you think you heard him gasp and suddenly he’s got his arms wrapped tight around you and just holds you against his chest as the coughing attack subsides. You’re left staring at the ceiling as he leans back against the couch and holds you close, your blush burning brighter. You turn to the side so you’re in a more comfortable position facing the back of the couch, and he lets you move before a starting to rub your horns, and the purr that leaves your mouth would be enough to make your moirail implode from the sound. 

He chuckles again, a sound you hope will never go away, and continues, and before you know it you’re drifting off into a peaceful sleep that you haven’t had in five and a half days, laying against your Karkat’s chest as he purrs back to you.

Quietly, before you fall asleep, you whisper to him. “hi karkitty.”

“HEY NEPETA.”

You giggle despite yourself, and you can _feel_ his laugh rumble through his chest into your back, and you close your eyes to fully immerse yourself in the feeling. He speaks again, bringing you out of your comfortable daze. “SO, UM, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN SICK?”

It takes all the self control you have not to roll your eyes at his choice for small talk. You respond anyway.

“like, five and a half-ish days, give or take a few hours.”

He nods, and adjusts himself so he can pull a blanket over the two of you. “THAT SOUNDS LIKE IT SUCKED.”

You roll your eyes this time, and elbow him in the side as he bursts out laughing. “AC is not aMEOWsed at the crab’s attempt at a joke.” You reply in deadpan, raising your voice at your little pun, and he jabs you in the side as punishment, which makes you burst out giggling, and suddenly it’s turned into a poking fight. 

You roll onto your stomach so you’re face-to-face with him and start jabbing him as he screams at you and pokes you back, and you two fight for a few minutes. You push too hard and he pulls back too fast, and suddenly you’re both rolling onto the ground, tangled up in the blanket. You’re both out of breath at this point, giggling and wheezing in attempts to breathe when under attack. 

After a moment, you go to sit up and realize he’s on top of you, braced with both hands over your head. You stare at him and he stares back, and you take a moment to think about how pretty his eyes are, the red starting to dye the gray pupils. “uh, um, I should, you should, um…” you manage to spit out, hands braced on his chest, unsure how to get him off, unsure if you want him off.

He looks down at you and says nothing, but suddenly there are lips on your forehead and he’s pulled back, sitting up and pulling you back onto the couch in your previous position. You’re greener than you have any right to be, and he’s lying back down with you on his chest. Silence fills the room, but it’s a comfortable silence, and after a few minutes you relax back onto his chest, eyes shut, cheek pressed into his sweater. He relaxes too, you can feel it by the way his breathing slows, and you drift off again, his arms clutched protectively tight around you.

Five and a half days of sickness, for a few hours of Karkat holding you close.

All in all, you think maybe these five and a half days haven’t really been all that bad.

**Author's Note:**

> past me, when writing this godforsaken fic: lmao color coding these dialogues will b rlly cute and then easy to differentiate bc i write dialogue mid way into paragraphs!!! im so clever!!!!!!
> 
> me now: fuck colors. colors are the actual worst
> 
> the sad thing is that i actually downloaded a bunch of karnep fics to get ready to write this, and i read like. three. i dont ship this at like all. this is one of the best fics ive ever written. lies face down in a ditch.


End file.
